


playdates, parkmates

by TheGodWith5Yen



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boba shows up because I like him :) I think he's neat :), Crushes, F/M, Friendship, Human Grogu | Baby Yoda, Pining, Playgrounds, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 06:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodWith5Yen/pseuds/TheGodWith5Yen
Summary: It started with a glance.Then shared smiles.Exchanges of hellos and goodbyes.Eventual how are you’s that made Din’s heart pound in his ears as he saw her smile from up close.And, at some point, they ended up at the same bench, together, having conversations.Her name was Omera, a single mother to nine year old Winta. She had a gentle speaking voice and strong hands that spoke to hard labor.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Omera
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Mandomera Week 2021





	playdates, parkmates

**Author's Note:**

> This is for mandomera week day 5: AU day :) just a little something sweet and fun hope you guys enjoy :)

In the year since Din had accidentally acquired a child of his own, he had park day down. 

The diaper bag was filled with his son’s pullups (which he had  _ finally _ got the kid to keep on and not just wriggle out of and run about butt naked in the middle of the playground so thank god for that), little snacks that Din would guiltily admit (if asked) that he himself would snack on, extra clothes because if there was one thing that baby was excellent at it was getting himself dirty in nooks and crannies that did not even make intellectual and gravitational sense (that and he would try to eat  _ anything  _ imageable, how the kid didn’t get warts in his mouth from actually stuffing frogs in his mouth was beyond Din, but damn was he glad he hadn’t dealt with  _ that _ ), his favorite shiny small ball that had originally been a part of a toy that he had torn off to play with it alone because apparently a shiny ball was better than a large spaceship, lots and lots of handwipes, sunscreen, and the baby’s favorite plush bunny-rabbit that was missing an eye called ‘Bub-Bub.’ 

Get up at seven, give him his breakfast of fruits and cut up pancakes dyed green because that’s what he always wanted when Din asked, wash up, and leave the house by eight-thirty to get to the playground extra early and before most other people arrived. They would walk about for about fifteen minutes before Din would let him climb about at the toddler-sized playground that was right next to the playground designated for much older children, with its large winding slides and tall monkeybars that set Din’s teeth on edge when he thought about  _ his  _ kid ever getting onto them. 

Guadalupe—or Grogu, of all things, had become a nickname for his son that the kid liked all too much and Din used way too often—loved his park day. 

And, with each passing week, Din loved it more and more himself. 

It started, like most relationships do, with a glance. 

Din had been sitting on a bench, watching as Grogu leapt about the playground with another child about his age, playing at being either frogs or cats. An older child, about nine or ten, had skipped into the toddler playground and crouched down as she watched them leap about. It wasn’t long before her mother called out and Din instinctively shifted to look. The girl’s mother was beautiful, with long brown hair falling over her shoulders and a soft smile on her face as her daughter ran over to her and excitedly waved her hands goodbye towards Grogu and his company. The mother must have felt his gaze, because she glanced over, met his eyes, and smiled. 

It started with a glance. 

Then shared smiles. 

Exchanges of hellos and goodbyes. 

Eventual  _ how are you _ ’s that made Din’s heart pound in his ears as he saw her smile from up close. 

And, at some point, they ended up at the same bench, together, having conversations. 

Her name was Omera, a single mother to nine year old Winta. She had a gentle speaking voice and strong hands that spoke to hard labor. Omera worked as a field worker, picking seasonal crops for a low wage, but she was trying to get into college so she could find better work for herself and to better support her daughter. “I don’t have much free time as is, I cannot imagine what strings I would have to pull to go,” she had said quietly as she watched her daughter swing from the monkeybars and land onto her feet in a crouch and a loud laugh.

“You could do it,” Din had replied. “You’re hardworking and willful.” 

She had smiled at him and bumped their shoulders together. 

As the months passed and the routine persisted, Din found that he enjoyed speaking to Omera. He would even look forward to it after a long week.

Most people expected conversations, long and fluid, but Omera seemed just as content as he was to simply sit together. Sometimes he would close his eyes and get microsleep and open his eyes back up to see her deep brown eyes staring at him and a smile edging along her lips. 

It was nice. 

“You’re in love.” Boba said as he took off his leather cowboy hat and set it onto Grogu’s head. The kid grinned that gummy smile up at Boba before nearly running straight into a wall. They watched him blink and shake his head before climbing onto the couch and sing to himself, so he was fine. 

Din shifted uncomfortably as he stared at his friend. “I am not in love.” 

“Hey,” Boba raised up his hands and rolled his eyes, “you like talking to her and specifically look forward to seeing her every weekend. You know her favorite snacks and bring them to share with her. I may not be an expert, but that sounds like love to me. Honestly, all this is about as bad as how my brother Kote and his husband were before they finally got together. You’ll either be married by the end of the year or pining silently for the rest of your life.” 

Unsure how to answer that, Din replied, “We barely know each other.” 

Boba sighed and plopped down onto the couch next to Grogu, spreading out his limbs and taking up most of the seating himself. The kid glanced at him, smiled, and climbed onto his lap. “Maybe you should just ask her out.” He said it casually, bouncing his knee up and down as Grogu held onto the too-big cowboy hat on his head, like the concept didn’t make Din freeze up. 

Ask her out. 

Ask Omera out? 

Din had to admit the thought sounded nice. It was just that, well.

He had never really  _ done  _ relationships before. He’s dated, a little bit, but never anything serious and Din knew that if he wanted anything with Omera he wanted it to be serious. But how could he try to have a serious relationship if he’s never had one before? How could he know that he was doing good by Omera—and Winta and, hell, even Grogu—by asking her out on a date and, somehow, ruining their relationship for the long run? Honestly, it felt much safer to be friends, distant parkmates who didn’t see each other outside of once a week. 

God that sounded like hell. 

Din gave Boba a dirty look for plaguing his thoughts with this, and for putting his socked feet on the coffee table, but Boba just gave him a tight smile and a lazy salute.

How this guy was one of his best friends was beyond him. He was the worst. 

He was also, objectively, right. 

Fuck him.

The next weekend they arrived at the park, diaper bag in hand and Grogu chatting in both words and sounds as he tottered along next to Din, he couldn’t help but feel overheated and awkward and unsure of himself. He sat on his bench and watched little Grogu climb up the stairs of the playground and move towards the large wheel that was up there, twisting it about with clumsy hands. 

He breathed in.

He breathed out. 

It wouldn’t hurt to put it out there, would it? 

And even if she wasn’t interested in him romantically, they could always simply become friends and see each other outside of the park anyways. Din could live with that. Being friends. 

He was in the middle of his thoughts when he spotted Omera walking towards him, Winta at her side. Winta had on bright blue eyeshadow that matched Omera’s; both were clumsily applied which most likely meant Winta had been the one to do their makeup. His thoughts were confirmed when Winta grabbed Din’s arm and leaned close to him, saying, “Look! Look! I did mine and Mama’s makeup! Isn’t it beautiful?” 

Omera smoothed at Winta’s hair and cracked a smile, small yet shining. “A neighbor gave her some old makeup palettes, so we’ve been having girls nights together. She was  _ very  _ excited to show you her skills.” Winta nodded and grinned widely as she looked at him with wide, expectant eyes. 

“You both look lovely.” Din answered. 

“Yay!” Winta said and gave a small twirl of excitement. “Mama did you hear? Din said we look lovely!” 

Omera grinned and smoothed at Winta’s hair. “I heard.” 

With that, Winta ran over towards the older children’s playground, already preoccupied with whatever game was on her mind. Din watched as Omera smiled before sitting next to Din, her hands fidgeting with a lock of her hair before settling on her lap. 

“Thank you for indulging her. Winta is fond of you.” Omera said with a smile as she smoothed at her long skirt. It was wrinkled slightly at the bottom and Din thought of how he spent Grogu’s naptime ironing out their clothes. Which was, in all honesty, a weird thought to have so he smiled at Omera before anything stupid left his lips, trying to form words in his head that he could actually say to her. 

“Winta is,” Din tilted his head and watched as Winta yelled into a telephone tube, “a wonderful girl.” When he turned his head back towards Omera, she was grinning widely at him. “She must get it from you.” 

Omera’s smile turned shy as she tucked her hair behind her ear and laughed, light and unsteady. “Thank you Din. That is kind of you to say.” Before Din could answer, she reached into her purse and pulled out a bag of almonds. “How was little Grogu this week?” As always, a small laugh escaped her lips after she said the kid’s nickname. She had laughed when Din had first told her why he called his son the most ridiculous name imaginable, but, like nearly everyone else who knew the kid, she had picked up on using the name since it’s what Grogu liked to be called more often than not. “He’s not been giving you too much trouble has he?” 

Din smiled as he told her about how Grogu had climbed into the hamper and hid there for about ten minutes as Din went out of his mind trying to find the damn kid. They traded stories back and forth as they shared snacks together and watched the children run about. At one point, Winta came towards the toddler playground to play with Grogu by playing family with him. “I’m the mama and Grogu’s my baby!” She had told them when Omera asked. Grogu had grinned and nodded his little head as he followed Winta about. 

“They’re adorable.” Omera laughed out as Grogu held up his arms and Winta carefully picked him up. Her arms wobbled a bit, but she successfully had him and Din wasn’t worried she would drop him anyways. 

Time moved quickly and, before Din knew it, Grogu was sitting on his lap with a juicebox in hand. 

They would leave soon. 

Din swallowed, gathering up all his courage as he opened his mouth and asked, “Would you like to spend time together? Outside of the park? Like a, um. A.” He paused and licked his lips. He couldn’t look at Omera, instead he stared at Grogu as the little boy squeezed the juicebox a little too hard and ended up with juice on his chin that he tried to lick at. Din used his sleeve to clean at it. 

“Like a date?” Omera asked. 

There it was. It was out in the open. There was no telling what could happen next for them both after he answered that simple question and it made Din feel lightheaded. Damn Boba Fett for putting this thought in his head and forcing Din to confront his feelings, his life would be so much more peaceful if he didn’t listen to that man.

“I would like for it to be a date.” Din’s chest felt tight. “If you would too, of course.” 

A hand grabbed his chin lightly and pulled his gaze upwards, meeting Omera’s beautiful brown eyes. She smiled, that beautiful smile of hers that made him feel like the world had stilled, and replied, “I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Cool.”

Omera lightly drew her thumb down his chin as Din began to grin at her. 

“Good.”


End file.
